


Falling Into You

by afterandalasia



Category: Cinderella (1950)
Genre: Community: disney_kink, Dom Cinderella, Dom/sub, F/M, Post-Movie(s), Smutlet, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After so many years, Cinderella is ready to be the one giving the orders instead.</p><p>Almost to his surprise, the Prince enjoys it just as much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Into You

He knows that she is beautiful, and well-mannered, and sweet-voiced. He knows that she is more determined than many men that he knows, and that she can stand in rags and bare feet and have all the Palace rapt before her. He knows the jolt of love that rushes through him each time that they touch, each time that their eyes meet.  
  
He does not know what to expect of her.  
  
This is true in terms of her attitude towards the servants, treating them as familiars, almost equals, even when she is gently drawn away by the ladies of the court and reminded to whom she should speak. It is true of her singing at strange moments, when she perhaps forgets herself.  
  
And it is certainly true when she turns to him, scant nights after their wedding, and says, "Kneel."  
  
It feels as if his knees drop out from under him as he hits the floor. Cinderella gives an enigmatic smile, and he realises that a pulse of arousal has shot through him at the same time. She stands calmly, with her hands folded in front of her, as he gapes wordlessly and goes to rise again.  
  
"I'm sorry, I don't kn-"  
  
"I didn't say you could stand," she says, in the same sweet tone, and points towards the floor. "Kneel there, for me."  
  
Wordlessly, he settles back to his knees, the carpet plush but the boards beneath firm enough for him to feel them even so. She crosses to him, and he catchese a peek of bare feet beneath the hem of her dress, and bends at the waist to cup his jaw with one hand.  
  
"Perfect." She presses a light kiss upon the tip of his nose, and his heart flutters. Her breath is light upon his face as she continues: "Don't you ever get tired of telling people what to do? You may answer."  
  
"It never occurred to me," he answers, throat dry. It is true; he could not lie to the sweet blue eyes that remain locked on his. "You..."  
  
A light slap against his cheek stills his tongue instantly. "I didn't say that you could ask questions. But yes," a gentle stroke over where the slap has just fallen, and it makes him feel like he is floating somewhere. "I am as tired of taking orders as you are of giving them. Now stand up," she straightens up; he follows like a puppet on her strings, and her smile becomes a little more mischevious. "And get on the bed."  
  
  


 

  
  
  
Sometimes, he wonders whether he should have known from the way that her touch struck him like lightning. From the way that she boldly kissed him, or the way that she was so bold to act at all. It takes her longer to talk about her past than it does for him to realise how soothing, how wonderful, how deeply intimate it is for her to push him to the bed, or wrap cloth across his eyes so that he cannot see a thing, or look at him when they are anywhere, anywhere at all, and make that little hand gesture which he knows means they are to retire to their room immediately.  
  
Their skin may touch, their flesh meet, but when she whispers commands in his ear it is as if she is sliding beneath his skin and holding him, warm and comforting and so bursting with love, from the inside out. When she first sits astride his thighs and bites his shoulders, his back, gentle to start but with increasing intensity until they are both breathless and flushed, he cannot believe what it is that they do, and that it should be so.  
  
And every night, as she waits patiently for him to undress her -- the servants dare not ask why they are dismissed, and probably think with her background that she divests herself of clothing -- she smiles at him, and when he is done with the difficulties of corsetry and lacing she will kiss him for a reward, and then take him by the hand and lead him to their bed, and with every whispered instruction from her lips they fall deeper into each other, deeper in love, and he would have it no other way.


End file.
